


Stay

by DarthBubbles



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Rebellion Era - All Media Types, Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Ezrabine, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Episode: s02e19-20 Twilight of the Apprentice, Sabezra - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-23
Updated: 2016-09-23
Packaged: 2018-08-16 22:26:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8119870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarthBubbles/pseuds/DarthBubbles
Summary: Sabine's tired of hearing Ezra get up in the middle of the night to wrestle with his demons alone.
Set after Twilight of the Apprentice. Sabezra, Ezrabine, whatever you wanna call it. Oneshot.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Another fic I've had posted up on FF.net but failed to post up over here - I hope you enjoy!

It’s the quiet thud that she hears in the middle of the night that causes her heart to ache for him the most. She doesn’t have to look up from the piece she’s working on and open her door to know that he’s leaving his room for the first time since he’d done the same thing the previous night. Her sensitive ears pick up the sound of his feet hitting the durasteel flooring of the _Ghost_ as he hops down from his bunk and his door slides open with a _hiss_.

Sabine’s been listening to him leave his room long after the rest of the crew has gone to sleep since the first night after Malachor. It’s the only time he’ll remove himself from his isolated prison, and she wonders if even Zeb’s sleeping presence at nighttime is more company than he can handle.

Tonight is different, however. Sabine doesn’t hear his wandering footsteps outside his door like she has for the past few nights. Instead, she picks up the quietest of sighs from the other side of her door and hears his voice crack a bit as he whispers the first words she’s heard him speak since his return from the mission that went to hell. “Damn it, Bridger.”

Sabine stops mid-paint stroke, her fingers trembling a bit in an overwhelming sense of empathy she’s not used to feeling, and her feet are moving of their own accord before she can tell herself that she’s the last person who’d be able to comfort him. Her fingers fumble for the door control, and when it slides open he’s already halfway down the hallway.

“Can’t sleep?” she asks. It’s a stupid question with an obvious answer, and he shrugs.

He waits for her to catch up before continuing to walk towards the _Ghost_ ’s exit ramp. Sabine hangs back by his heels as she follows him, still working up the courage to look him in the eyes by the time they make it out into Alloton’s frigid night.

“You know,” she starts with a heavy exhale, sitting down next to him at the base of the _Ghost_ ’s loading ramp, “the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results.”

Ezra continues to stare ahead at the horizon, his raven hair flitting about in the breeze as he responded, “What’s _that_ supposed to mean?”

“It means I’m tired of hearing you get up every night to try and deal with… whatever you’re dealing with – _everything_ you’re dealing with, by yourself.”

“I’m sorry,” Ezra mumbles, resting his arms on his knees and subsequently resting his chin on his arms. “I’ve been trying to be quiet.”

“It’s not the _noise_ that’s bothering me, you nerf-herder!” Sabine doesn’t have enough time to catch the snappy retort before she’s blurted it out, but her tone is enough to get him to look up at her for the first time that night. His indigo eyes are red with a lack of sleep, and Sabine swears she saw a ring of gold around his irises, but it’s gone as quickly as it appears. She sighs, running her fingers through vibrant hair as she brushes her bangs from her eyes. “I _miss_ you, Ezra. We all do.” She glances at him, hazel eyes communicating her silent plea: _Stop isolating yourself from your family._

He catches on, either by use of the Force or by drawing on how well and how intimately he knows her, and shakes his head. “I can’t face you guys.” His voice is barely louder than a whisper in an unsuccessful attempt to hide the crack in his voice. “Not after what I did.”

“Ezra.” Her voice is firm and authoritative, in true Mandalorian fashion. “You didn’t blind Kanan,” he cringes at the blunt mention of the incident, but Sabine continues, “Maul did. Ahsoka’s not missing because of you, she’s missing because of Vader.”

“But didn’t you see Rex’s _face_ when Kanan and I stepped off the _Phantom_ without her?” This time there’s no disguise for the tremble in his voice, and he blinks hard to stop the tears from making tracks down his cheeks. Sabine feels the pain splitting her chest at the sight of him broken and vulnerable, and in that moment she’s sure of one thing.

Sabine Wren is wholly in love with Ezra Bridger.

Her heart breaks for him as she tentatively reaches an arm out around his shoulders; he stiffens at her touch at first before leaning into her and heaving a shuddering sob. Sabine reaches her free hand up to smooth raven hair and tries not to think about the fact that her own eyes are uncharacteristically brimming with tears.

She’s good at destruction. She’s a warrior, through and through. But for one of the first times in her life, explosions and marksmanship cannot fix the problem at hand. “What do you need?” she asks desperately, unsure how to help him but wanting so badly to try anyways. “What can I do?”

His voice trembles as he looks up at her, and he cups her jawline with a shaking hand. “Stay,” he whispers, and Sabine drops her forehead onto his as she pulls him in close.

She wants to kiss him in that moment, and his lips are temptingly close. But this isn’t how she wants Ezra, cold and broken, and it’s not how she wants him to want her, needy and confused, so she settles to slide her hand into his and be content in the way he needs her right now.

Alloton’s cold nighttime temperatures melt away in his arms, and when the sun’s morning rays just begin to paint the horizon in brilliant pinks and oranges, Ezra stirs momentarily before tucking his head under her chin and tightening his grip around her waist.

“You don’t want to retreat back into your cave?” she asks, only half-joking.

She feels the shake of his head against her collarbone. “Not anymore.” He yawns, closing his eyes as he leans into her. “Thank you for staying.”

“Ezra.”

“Mm?”

She allows the ghost of a smile to touch her features, and because it’s him, she vocalizes the thought she’d have typically internalized.

“I’ll always stay.”


End file.
